


Even If It Remembers Them

by I3utterflyEffect



Category: The Property of Hate
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Gen, Hero remembers (until she doesn't), POV Second Person, i wrote this at 2 am while crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22545040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I3utterflyEffect/pseuds/I3utterflyEffect
Summary: There is something you need to remember. It is very, very important.But everyone forgets things, no matter how important they might be.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Even If It Remembers Them

_“No matter the manner in which they leave— be it by failure or success— those who do will not remember this world… even if it remembers them.”_

A long, long, time ago, you remembered RGB saying that.

Those words scared you. They had scared you when you first heard them, but looking back on it now, it was more terrifying than ever; Your best friends lived in the World of Make Believe— and it had been the most incredible adventure of your lifetime.

You didn’t want to forget. You wanted to remember.

So you drew.

You drew, you wrote, you saved your adventure through paper. People often complimented your impeccably creative character design and storytelling, telling you again and again that you should write a story and publish it.

You didn’t want to. If you published it, they would be gone forever. They wouldn’t be _them,_ they’d just be words on paper, set on rails and telling the same story over and over.

And if you didn’t… they’d still die. They’d lose inspiration, they’d be gone. Forever. Just… lost to time.

So you kept them. You kept them, hoarding your drawings like a dragon and keeping them safe, _you had to keep them safe—_

Until, one day, despite everything…

…you forgot.

All the drawings of your friends gathered dust in a box, somewhere in the attic.

And, despite the nagging feeling in your stomach that you were forgetting something—something very, _very important_ …

You didn’t remember.

At least… not for a long time.

* * *

Many years later, you are sorting through all those old boxes of abandoned toys and various other items— sorting out what goes to charity, what to keep with you, what to throw away…

…when you come across an old box, filled with papers.

You do not remember what this could be, but everything in your mind is screaming that this is the most important box among the rest, that this is something you must keep close.

So… naturally, you open it.

The old drawing of your  friends characters feels like a punch to the gut, and you don’t know why, but you’re hurting, _you’re crying—_

And as you read the story you’ve written down, it all becomes painfully obvious why it hurts.

You forgot your friends. You forgot Tailor, you forgot TOby, you forgot Assok, you…

You forgot RGB. How could you forget _RGB—_? 

_You forgot your best friend,_ and as much of a stupid dork he was, as much as you hated him, you also _loved him,_ and you just forgot him like he was nothing.

You’re not even sure if your friends are still alive anymore.

This… it’s all your fault.

You miss RGB.

* * *

One day, you begin to remember clearly again.

And you start to write.

And somewhere else, in a place out of mind, a handful of characters feel a little more solid in their outline— they feel a little more colorful…

They feel remembered.


End file.
